Morgendorffer
by Lord Akiyama
Summary: The adventures of Miss. Daria Morgendorffer, a neurotic maid serving the spoiled Princess Augusta Sophia during the English Regency in six-parts. Crossover of Daria and Blackadder. Chapter III: Nob and Nobility.
1. Dish and Dishonesty

**Morgendorffer**

a _Daria_ and _Blackadder_ fan fiction crossover story

by Lord Akiyama

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Daria_ and its characters are copyright © of MTV. _Blackadder_ and its characters are copyright © of BBC. This story was created purely out of sheer enjoyment so please don't sue.

This story is based within the third series of the _Blackadder_ television programme, _Blackadder the Third_. While actual persons, situations, and locations are present and used, historical accuracy has been thrown completely out of the window for storytelling and entertainment purposes. Factual information of those used in this chapter are noted as best as possible at the bottom under Footnotes to History.

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**Chapter One**

**Dish and Dishonesty**

* * *

It was a period known as the English Regency. King George III was deemed unfit to rule due to declining health and increasing descent into insanity. His eldest son George IV, the Prince of Wales, took over as regent.**[1]**

* * *

The sun pierced its blinding light through the window. Shining directly upon the face of a maid who stirred violently before being forced to awaken from her much needed slumber. With a grumble and incoherent muttering, she sat up and stretched her arms outward. Satisfied, she scratched her back and slowly slid out of bed. She shuffled a few feet toward the med of another maid, one who on purpose positioned her bed so that the radiant sunlight could not touch her.

"Rise and shine, Miss. Morgendorffer," the first maid managed to say in a sleepy tone. She rocked the other's shoulder back and forth repeatedly until she finally stirred. "It's another beautiful day for her highness to abuse her social status upon by spending more than her given allowance on clothes and eying pathetic suitors for her to manipulate in the evening."

"I am just overwhelmed with excitement," the second maid muttered. With a yawn, she slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes before grabbing her glasses from the nightstand behind her. Once her vision was set, she looked over at the first maid. "And need I remind you to stop addressing me formally when we're not in the presence of the royal family, Miss. Lane? Having to answer to my last name for more than twenty times a day will surely drive me to be as mad as his highness."

"Wasn't it thirty last week?" the first maid asked as she shuffled over to the closet to retrieve their work clothes.

"It drops on a weekly basis, Jane," the second maid replied. She then stretched her arms out until she was satisfied, remaining seated in her bed until given her work clothes. "Just like the number of brain cells that is maintained hourly while in the presence of the spoiled Princess herself."

"A shame we have to serve that very same spoiled Princess, Daria," Jane noted as she shuffled back over to the other with their work clothes in both of her hands. She casually dropped one set upon the other's lap before shuffling back near her own bed and proceeded to get dressed. "Of course, it was either that or become a prostitute."

"Two career choices that both lead to loss of sanity," Daria pointed out. She continued to remain seated while she was getting dressed. "The only difference being that we could maintain our virginity for as long as possible serving the brat."

"The lesser of two evils," Jane added, nearly finished in getting dressed. "Boy, does life suck for us lower class women."

"Given that fat, flatulent gits like the Prince Regent continue to run things in this country, I highly doubt it will get any better," Daria stated, herself nearly finished in getting dressed as well.

They were set and ready to go when a giant bell in a corner of the room rang. Both women let out defeated sighs, knowing full well what that sound meant. Whether they liked it or not, they were to leave the room and perform their occupational duties.

"Time to earn our pay, Daria," Jane proclaimed with a deep breath.

"What little pay we get for having to deal with so much," Daria responded as she stood up from her bed. "One of these days, Jane, you're going to have to do the right thing and put me out of my misery."

"Not if I manage to get my suffering to end first," Jane said in retort. The two maids merely looked at one another for a moment before slouching their way out of the room. They continued to converse as they walked through the hallways. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask you something."

"The answer is no," Daria stated rather suddenly.

"You must have had a really bad night if you're grumpy this early," Jane noted.

"You would be too if you only spent four hours worth of sleep," Daria added.

"Nevertheless, I didn't even get to ask my question," Jane pointed out.

"It's the same question you ask at least once a month, Jane," Daria responded. "The question being, 'Have I found myself smitten with any one man yet?' The answer being, as I've stated before and I will continue to say again, a definite no."

"Well, did you even try to find a man for you to be smitten with?" Jane asked as the two maids entered the kitchen.

"I am a maid for Princess Augusta, the annoying daughter of mad King George III and sister to the Prince Regent George IV," Daria began to explain while waiting to retrieve the trays containing breakfast for the royal family. "All of my free time, whenever I am lucky enough to get any, is spent either asleep or buried in self-loathing at some dump like Mrs. Miggins' shoppe."

"And that's just on a typical Monday," Jane added.

"Even if I wanted to find some guy to be smitten with, he would run off screaming into the night in fear of his life as a result of my frustrations being pushed to the brink on a daily basis," Daria continued. "And that's if he manages to survive, what you so earnestly call, my charming personality."

"You know, there is Blackadder," Jane suggested, raising a brow as the maids collected the trays.

"Please," Daria responded in a droll tone as they made their way through the kitchen. "Blackadder is perhaps the worst kind of ego-maniac. A brilliant man who, by poor luck, must serve an upper class twit. Besides, he would consider me too young for his tastes any way. Not to mention his social status can't be elevated through me."

"Were we talking about any other man, I'd say you were just making excuses," Jane noted.

"I'm sure you would," Daria said.

The two maids exited the kitchen and into the dining room. Awaiting for their meals were Queen Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, wife of King George III, and her daughter Princess Augusta Sophia. The Queen sat at the head of the table in a proud and distinguished manner. The Princess, on the other hand, had both her elbows up on the table, sitting rather close to the edge of her seat, and reading the morning paper with great interest.

"Ah, there you are, girls," the Queen announced in possible relief. She was getting her breakfast after all. "Let's hope the chef double-checked the eggs he used before cooking them this time. There will be hell to pay if he let slip another rotten yolk into our breakfast like he did last week."

"Don't worry, your highness," Jane said as she placed a tray in front of the Queen. "I believe the tongue lashing that you gave him as a result of his accident will surely scare him into triple-checking every egg he comes into contact with."

"Either that or he'll just hang himself in shame," Daria added as she placed a tray before the Princess.

"What wonderful wit you girls display," Charlotte proclaimed in laughter. The maids were unsure if the Queen was speaking sarcastically given the previous times they displayed their wit. Some at the expense of the royal family. "And to think, young Augusta here believed you lacked personality. It appears that they have proven you wrong, young lady."

"Whatever," Augusta said in a highly disinterested tone. Her attention fixed upon the newspaper she now had in her hand. "Listen to this, mother. The House of Commons have elected a new Prime Minister. And he's my age, too."**[2]**

"Augusta Sophia," Charlotte stated sternly. "What have I told you about bringing the subject of boys to the table during breakfast? And while we are on the subject, I would prefer it if you take no interest in William Pitt the Younger."**[3]**

"Pitt the Younger?" Augusta repeated in a rather dreamy tone. "Sounds like a very nice name."

"I mean it, dear," Charlotte demanded. "That oily tick plans to bankrupt your brother. If only he weren't an elected official. Otherwise, we would make an ideal candidate for a display of public execution."

"Mother!" Augusta cried in complaint. "I can't believe you are saying such things about our new Prime Minister. Besides, he's right about George, you know." The Princess looked back down at the paper to read out some quotes. "I mean, listen to this. Prime Minister Pitt stated that in this year alone George spent 'fifty thousand pounds on banqueting, twenty thousand pounds on perfume, and an astonishing fifty-nine thousand pounds on socks.' Socks, mother."

"Need I remind you of how much you've spent on hats this year alone, young lady?" Charlotte questioned firmly. This was enough to make the Princess hang her head quietly. "That's what I thought. So George buys a lot of socks. I'm sure there's a very good reason for it. Nevertheless, the Prime Minister making it known that he wishes to do harm to the Prince Regent makes him an enemy of this family. You are therefore forbidden to even think positive thoughts about Pitt the Younger. Understand?"

"Yes, mother," Augusta muttered quietly under her breath.

"Good," Charlotte said, calming down to a more dignified manner. "Now finish your breakfast so that you may proceed with your history lessons, dear." The Queen then turned her attention away from her daughter to one of the maids. "Miss. Morgendorffer, may I have a word with you in private?"

"Yes, your highness," Daria answered with a curtsy. The maid followed the Queen out of the dining room and into an adjacent study room. "How may I be of service?"

"No doubt you and Miss. Lane witnessed what just happened in there," Charlotte began to say. "Painfully obvious to see that Augusta has taken quite a fascination in that little runt of a Prime Minister. Which means that, unless she is deterred, she will begin developing a romantic interest in him. And that is the absolute last thing we need under the circumstances."

"In short, you want me to make sure the Princess does not fall head over heels for Pitt the Younger," Daria summarized.

"Correct," Charlotte said. "Now, you have done exceptional in the past at preventing my daughter from proceeding forward with being courted by numerous would-be suitors when I have asked you to. I expect nothing less than similar results."

"Hmmm..." Daria thought aloud. "If I may say so, your grace. This might prove to be a little more difficult of a task than the previous times with the other would-be suitors."

"Explain yourself, Miss. Morgendorffer," Charlotte stated.

"Ma'am, there are a number of obstacles in place that will surely make handling the situation rather problematic," Daria said. "Unlike the previous suitors, Pitt the Younger is an elected politician. Which means he has the actual authority to back up the majority of whatever claim to power he has. And we are both well aware that the Princess likes those with power so she can manipulate them to her advantage."

"Quite," Charlotte agreed as she nodded.

"That's only the first obstacle, your majesty," Daria continued. "Another is that she has never actually met the Prime Minister. Which, in turn, will fuel her fascination as she starts piecing together in her mind, through the stories she reads and hears, what he may look and be like."

"Oh, dear God," Charlotte moaned in frustration. "I cannot bare the thought of her speaking aloud whatever wild fantasies she will dream up of him. Miss. Morgendorffer, it is imperative that you dissuade my daughter from such romantic inclinations."

"As I have pointed out, your highness, it will not be easy as it had been in past situations," Daria stated.

"Fine," Charlotte sighed. "I'll increase your pay. How does an extra thousand sound?"

"An extra thousand?" Daria questioned.

"Guineas," Charlotte clarified. The response she got from the maid was merely a raised brow. "Per month."

"I'll see what I can do, ma'am," Daria said.

"I expect nothing less than to see Augusta banish all positive thoughts of Pitt the Younger for the pay I'm giving you, Miss. Morgendorffer," Charlotte stated. "Now then, let us return to breakfast and see if leaving my daughter be with my supervision has made your job any more difficult than you claim it may be."

* * *

"Damn you're good, Daria," Jane stated as she began to scrub the next set of sheets. "Not only did you manage to get the Queen, of all people, to increase your pay in order to once again shatter the brat's pathetic attempt at a failed love-life, but you got her to pay you an extra thousand guineas. Per month, no less."

"I haven't got the bonus yet, Jane," Daria noted as she started hanging washed sheets on a clothes line. "There's the matter of accomplishing my objective before any discussion about increase pay can be made."

"Let's go over the details of the situation, shall we?" Jane asked. "Her spoiled highness has become fascinated with the newly elected Prime Minister. In large part because he is roughly her age and she apparently likes his plan to bankrupt her brother."

"A show of authority is what it is," Daria explained. "You know how the brat likes to associate with those in power just so she can wrap them around her little fingers. If I noticed correctly, I believe she may well be on her way in developing the mental image of Pitt the Younger as a result of how she said his name."

"And if she manages to start having those fantasies, you're in big trouble," Jane noted.

"Hopefully she hasn't reached that terrifying thought just yet," Daria stated. "That still doesn't provide me with the luxury of time, though. She needs to be disinterested in the Prime Minister long enough for her to forget all about him completely."

"Good luck with that," Jane said.

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Daria responded.

"So with all of this in mind, what pray tell is your plan of action?" Jane asked.

"It's not going to be easy," Daria began to answer. "First and foremost, I need to keep the Princess from reading the paper for a while. There's no question Pitt the Younger will be mentioned about in there for some time. Next thing I need to do is postpone all of her upcoming get-togethers with those trio of high society brats she hangs around with."

"I can't possibly imagine how you thought this was going to be difficult," Jane commented.

"Which is why I'm enlisting you," Daria stated. "I'll share half of my bonus if you can help me accomplish all of this."

"An extra five hundred guineas per month..." Jane thought aloud. "Tempting, very tempting..."

Daria sighed. "An extra five hundred guineas per month and I'll sneak you some of the drawing material the artistically challenged brat of a Princess rarely uses," she said.

"You just bought yourself an accomplice," Jane stated proudly.

"I couldn't be any happier," Daria noted in her droll tone.

"Restricting the brat from reading the paper for a while shouldn't be that hard for me to do," Jane said. "I just hate the fact that I need to wake up really early to get this done, though. Any way, I know exactly where the deliveries are made and which of the butlers does the retrieving. There will be no problems in keeping him for doing his job."

"Tell me you're not going to be sinking that low," Daria groaned.

"All I'm going to do is lift up my skirt for him," Jane responded with laughter.

"I'm beginning to think that bringing you on board was a complete mistake," Daria noted. "You risk being distracted from your duties because you're messing around with a butler. Who's next, the stable boy?"

"And you're the one accusing me for having a dirty mind when it comes to men," Jane commented.

"I know how to use these clothes pins as torture devices," Daria stated, holding up the object of note for Jane to see. "Speak another word and you'll find out just how dangerous I can be with them."

"I'll just have to take that risk, then," Jane said. "So we got the paper covered. What about the high society trio?"

"I do have an idea on how to take care of them," Daria replied as she resumed her work. "But it may end up becoming more complicated in practice than in theory. Remember when the Queen made that decree in which the Princess could not meet with the brats while she is in the middle of any one of her lessons?"

"Remember it?" Jane responded. "The way the Princess complained was the single most entertaining show of the last two years. At one point, I thought she was going to tear the palace down."

"The point is that we have to keep the spoiled brat occupied with her studies exclusively so that she won't have time to hang out with the other brats," Daria explained. "What we need to do is schedule her lessons in such a way that he gets little to no break period. What concerns me is whether the tutors will be able to go along with it for however long it lasts."

"Not to mention if they don't arrive as scheduled," Jane pointed out. "You know how some of them like to delay having to educate the brat for however long they can. Giving lessons to a teenage girl sounds like a punishment than an occupation."

"And you're not going to like what my plan for that is," Daria noted. Then she took a deep breath. "I need to keep watch on the Princess and serve her when she calls for it. That means some one has to keep the high society trio at bay should she find herself with free time due to the tutors wanting to delay the inevitable."

"Damn you, Daria," Jane cursed.

* * *

"Her highness thanks you for your time in educating her, ma'am," Daria said to the tutor as she lead her out of the door. "She looks forward to learning more from you tomorrow at the same time. Good day." Daria closed the door gently behind the tutor. She took a deep breath and turned back toward the interior of the room. "Well, your grace, I would dare say that went well."

"Miss. Morgendorffer, please," Princess Augusta whined, slouching in her seat and fanning herself with a folded piece of paper. "I am becoming quite exhausted. I need rest before the next lesson."

"I'm afraid that will not be possible, your highness," Daria stated. She walked over and began gathering up the materials used in the previous lesson. "Very shortly, you are to have your French lessons."

"French already?" Augusta continued to whine. "My goodness! It's like I am being taught every one of my lessons in a single day. How can I possibly keep up and get my lessons straight at this rate?"

"That unto itself is a lesson to be learned," Daria noted, setting the materials from the previous lesson and retrieving the materials needed for the next. "To be able to process an overwhelming amount of information and organize them properly with little time to do so. It is expected for one of royalty to be able to be able to have at least seven different topics of conversation prepared and ready to be used at a moments notice."

"Even French?" Augusta asked.

"Even French," Daria answered, placing the materials upon the table and organizing them properly. "Given tradition, you are likely to be in the presence of French diplomats. While they will no doubt be educated in speaking English, it is expected of you to be able to speak French as a gesture of good faith."

"I just hope mother doesn't try to pass me off as possible wife to some French Prince," Augusta muttered. "Unless he's cute. But I'm quite certain William is cuter." The silence Daria displayed did not go unnoticed by the Princess. "Oh, don't tell me, Miss. Morgendorffer. Mother wants you to put an end to my fancying of Pitt the Younger."

"It is not my place to say, your grace," Daria responded.

"And I bet that is the reason why I have not seen the paper for the past few days," Augusta stated. "The same with my suddenly having all my lessons taught in a single day. In fact, I haven't had any afternoon tea with my friends all week. If I didn't know any better, I would say that it has all been designed to prevent me from maintaining any thought about William for too long."

"If you say so, your highness," Daria commented.

"Of course I say so," Augusta proclaimed sternly. "Dash it all, Miss. Morgendorffer, why are my parents always continuing to pry into my love life? Father, despite being as mad as a balloon, forbids me from ever marrying, and mother is very picky about which suitors would make appropriate husbands."

"They are just concerned about your well being," Daria said. "If I recall the gossip going around on the streets, a British Princess like yourself was a prize for any male to claim for a wife. Most especially since your mother is so fertile."

"A prize?" Augusta questioned with a raised brow. "Me?" She thought for a moment and then began to giggle. "This is wonderful! So many boys smitten with me. I bet there's been a lot of fighting about who would court me first."

"I have no doubt," Daria whispered under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I wonder if William is smitten with me," Augusta thought aloud. She then let out a loving sigh. "He is sure to be cute, if not handsome or dashing. He would have to be for him to be Prime Minister, I bet."

"Damn," Daria cursed quietly. "Starting to fantasize..."

"By the way, Miss. Morgendorffer," Augusta said. "Even though I have not seen the paper for days, I can still catch wind of news from the other butlers and maids. It is my understanding that my brother tried to buy one of the Parliament seats to oppose William's plan to strike him from the Civil List. Apparently, the seat representing Dunny-on-the-Wold was open following the sudden demise of Sir Buxomley and managed to rig the election so that his candidate would defeat William's little brother."

"I wonder what name he got as brother of Pitt the Younger," Daria noted aloud, positioning herself to look like she was thinking. "Pitt the Toddler? Pitt the Embryo? Pitt the Glint in the Milkman's Eye?"

"How could you be so cruel about such a poor, innocent little boy wanting to be in politics like his cute brother?" Augusta asked in a complaining tone. "You're acting as heartless as I'm sure my brother was. I don't care that he's the Prince Regent, that's still a mean thing to do. Oh well, at least it was all for naught."

"What do you mean, your grace?" Daria questioned curiously.

"His man still voted against him," Augusta answered rather proudly. "Oh sure, the House of Lords will probably never let the bill pass. But the fact that William got the best of him makes him sound all the more dreamy."

"If you say so, your highness," Daria grumbled quietly in disgust.

* * *

Daria quickly entered the room and closed the door within a matter of seconds. She leaned up against the door and took a deep breath. Collecting her senses, she looked up to see Jane sitting on her bed. The other maid was glaring back at her, no doubt in a horrible state of brooding. And with good reason.

"I... hate... you..." Jane muttered.

"Just keep thinking to yourself about the reward for all of this, Jane," Daria said in response. "You're getting an extra five hundred guineas and some new art supplies to endure so much suffering."

"The first few days were bad enough, Daria," Jane grumbled. "But today... was the absolute worst."

"They didn't," Daria sighed.

"Yes... they did..." Jane whispered. "They talked about puppies. Cute, precious little puppies they wanted to hug. Remarking just how unbelievably cute those little fur balls are. And fuzzy, too." She begins to shutter. "The horror, Daria. The horror..."

"Just be glad her highness wasn't part of the conversation," Daria said as she shuffled her way over to the closet. "The psychological damage you're feeling now would pale in comparison to five minutes of her squealing about puppies."

"No more, Daria, no more," Jane begged, burying her face in her hands.

"Oh, it gets worse," Daria stated as she picked out a casual street dress from the closet. "Thanks to a bunch of butlers and maids who apparently are not familiar with the concept of keeping their mouths shut, her highness still managed to overhear whatever news about the Prime Minister she could pick up."

"You mean to tell me I am going to have nightmares about puppies for God knows how long for nothing?" Jane asked in horror upon looking up at the other maid.

"I'm afraid so," Daria answered, beginning to change from her work clothes into the street dress. "Despite the Prince Regent planting a bribed candidate in the House of Commons, they voted in support of Pitt the Younger in striking the brat's brother from the Civil List. While the House of Lords will never let it pass, the Princess is now completely infatuated with the Prime Minister."

"How could they do this to us?" Jane complained, shaking her fist. "They leave me alone, I leave them alone. No side interferes with the other. That was the agreement. Those other maids and butlers are breaking their words!"

"And to top it all off, the brat has started fantasizing," Daria concluded. Having finished changing clothes, she let out a heavy sigh as she sat upon her bed. "The sad part is that she hasn't even met the damn bastard."

"Guess we can kiss all of that bonus pay goodbye," Jane commented. "I should be comforted with the fact that you still owe me her art supplies, but I may find myself using it all up in an attempt to remedy that which I have been mentally scared by." Jane then finally took a moment to look at Daria. "You're quitting?"

"Not yet," Daria answered. "I managed to talk the Queen into letting me have my break early. Told her that it would help me take the time to devise some master plan to rid the Princess of her longing for the Prime Minister."

"But you're not going to do that, are you?" Jane questioned with a raised eye brow.

"Not even the slightest," Daria replied, getting up from the bed. "I'm going to Mrs. Miggins' and get myself drunk."

"Couldn't you have talked the Queen into letting me go with you?" Jane pleaded.

"Are you kidding?" Daria retorted as she made her way to the door. "I was lucky enough to get her to agree to letting me get my break early in the first place. I'll see you back here before we have to serve dinner." She slowly opened the door and exited the room. Leaving Jane all by her lonesome self.

"Fine!" Jane stated in a mock tone of whining. "Go on, leave me here to rot in my suffering. Force me to do the bidding of those uptight twits without you. May you burn in hell for this, you witch!" Quite suddenly, the bell began to ring. Signifying that she was needed to serve the royal family. "Damn..."

* * *

Daria entered the coffee shoppe and immediately at herself down at the empty counter. She was rather glad that it was empty of patrons. The only other person being the shoppekeeper herself. An old fool of a woman with hair as crusty and yellow as her teeth who just happened to be pretty decent at cooking.

"Good day, Mrs. Miggins," Daria said.

"Good day to you, Miss. Morgendorffer," Mrs. Miggins responded with a smile. An ugly one, whether she realized it or not. "What will it be today, deary?"

"The usual," Daria answered.

"The usual for which occasion?" Mrs. Miggins asked.

"The kind that makes me want to stick this toasting fork through head," Daria replied, tapping a finger on the noted object.

"Say no more," Mrs. Miggins stated with a nod. "I'll have it ready in a jiffy, love." The shoppekeeper went to the back into the kitchen to whip up the usual.

"Thanks, Mrs. Miggins," Daria called out. With a sigh, she slightly crossed her arms and placed them on the counter. She then rested her head upon her arms and relaxed a little.

It was then that the door opened and some one new had entered. Daria managed to look behind her enough to catch a glimpse of who it was. A seemingly tall and slender man with a permanent scowl on his face and clothing worn in an attempt to make him appear of a greater social status than he really was.

"Mr. Blackadder," Daria said.

"Ah, Miss. Morgendorffer," Blackadder responded as he took off his hat and sat himself next to her. "Fancy seeing you out and about this time of day. Am I to assume that her royal highness is on another of her incongruous shopping sprees?"

"If only, Blackadder," Daria replied. She thought for a moment and then gave out a rather heavy sigh. "I'd hate to ask, but I'm in need of some advice in regards to the brat."

"Is that so?" Blackadder asked, raising a curious brow. He shifted in his seat so that he was facing her directly. "Did she change her religion so suddenly again because of a dress she wore?"

"I'm afraid it is much worse than that," Daria answered. Then she let out a heavy sigh. "The Princess has started to grow ever more smitten with the newly appointed Prime Minister recently. An act that does not sit well with her mother, who in turn has called upon me to prevent the spoiled brat from proceeding further with such romantic inclinations."

"Princess Augusta infatuated with Pitt the Younger, eh," Blackadder noted. He then let out a painful groan. "Oh God. What has this world come to, Morgendorffer? It's bad enough feeble minded schizophrenics like the Prince Regent are running the show. Now their equally minded siblings are besotted with unwarranted affection for prepubescents like our Prime Minister."

"He's that young?" Daria quipped, herself raising a curious brow.

"Well, yes," Blackadder responded. "He revealed as much as I was willing to listen the other night while vaunting his not-so-complicated achievement in causing a seemingly ingenious plan to backfire. He summed it up best with the first line of what will no doubt be an illuminating poem he wrote about it. 'Why do nice girls hate me?' Tragic, really."

"Hmmm..." Daria uttered, giving some to thought to what she had just heard. She then sat up straight with a smirk forming on her uncolored lips. "You know, I think I may have figured out a way to solve my problem."

"Is that so," Blackadder mused. "Well, at least that makes one of us. I have a dogsbody to personally guillotine as a result of a mess he's gotten me into, but I'd rather not do so the conventional way. So I'm inviting Mrs. Miggins over to cook up a private dinner for one. It's not going to elucidate my problem, but it will help ease a bit of the suffering."

"Perhaps you can invite my friend Jane to partake in the proceedings," Daria suggested. "I regrettably dragged her into helping me out and has been mentally hampered as a result."

"Miss. Lane?" Blackadder asked for clarification. He thought for a moment and then shook his head. "I'm afraid this is a meal percolated specifically for one. Me."

"As I thought," Daria said. "Speaking of her, she recently made quite an interesting observation about you."

"Did she," Blackadder noted. "Let me guess. She christened me to be an abhorrent piece of dregs who makes Napoleon Bonaparte look like Robin Hood in that he is merely taking land from the rich aristocrats and giving them to the poor French midget who is physically handicapped with tucking his hand into his shirt."

"Almost," Daria responded. "She came up with this notion that perhaps you were the man I had been waiting all my life for to court me and whisk me away to a far away land where we could make babies."

"Miss. Lane has, unfortunately, conjured up a rather ludicrous proposal," Blackadder stated. "You are a maid, Morgendorffer. And therefore incapable to aggrandize my social status even one step."

"I told her the same thing," Daria commented. "Just not in those exact words."

"Glad that at least you and I have come to an understanding, then," Blackadder noted. "Now where the devil is Miggins? If I don't return soon, my dinner will either run off from beneath my nose or worse. He will add to my problems by trying to proceeding further with his delusive attempt at being a politician."

* * *

In the morning, Princess Augusta marched from room to room until she found her mother. Queen Charlotte was having a late breakfast being served by Daria and Jane in the dining room when Augusta sat herself in a chair next to the elder woman. She appeared in a huff and had immediately crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, mother," Augusta stated rather firmly. "You need not have to worry about my fascination with Pitt the Younger any more. I am so over him."

"Augusta, sweetie, I am glad to hear you say that," Charlotte said, sighing in relief.

"As a matter of fact, I would appreciate it if no one mentions him ever again," Augusta noted. After a brief moment to take a deep breath, she dropped her stern presence and shifted to her regular personality. "So any way, can I have an extension on my allowance? I need to clear my head by shopping for new clothes to replace that ones I've outgrown."

"We will discuss that later," Charlotte responded, narrowing her eyes. "But right now, it's time for your piano lessons, young lady."

"Piano lessons?" Augusta whined. She sulk for a moment. However, she seemed to realize that there would be little for her to do or say that could get her out of the predicament. "Fine." The Princess stood up and immediately marched out of the room.

"I can't thank you enough in putting an end to the situation, Miss. Morgendorffer," Charlotte said to the maid.

"It's what you pay me for, your highness," Daria noted. "And since we're on the subject-"

"I'll make sure to include the bonus in your next payment," Charlotte quickly proclaimed. She then got up from her seat and started to make her way out of the room. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I need a drink." Once the Queen had departed, the maids began to clean up after her.

"So how did you manage to end the brat's interest in the Prime Minister?" Jane asked.

"Simple," Daria replied. "I got them to meet face to face the other night."

"That was the remedy?" Jane questioned further with a raised brow.

"Blackadder mentioned what a nauseating adolescent our Prime Minister was," Daria began to explain. "Just the right kind of personality that would be very off-putting for the spoiled Princess, who wants her suitors to be nothing less than handsome hunks and not a scrawny geek going through puberty."

"No kidding," Jane said. Her tone of voice leading the other maid to suspect that she was impressed. "You got a little help from Blackadder, eh? This I have got to hear."

"There's nothing to hear, Jane," Daria stated. "He appeared in Mrs. Miggins', I asked him for some advice, he gave me helpful information, he dejected your notion of him courting me, end of story."

"I bet he's just in denial," Jane teased. "Just like you are, deary."

"Keep it up and I'll deny you your right to think consciously," Daria commented. "Either that, or I won't give you the art supplies I'm supposed to steal from the brat for helping me out."

"Curses," Jane said, shaking her fist mockingly at the other maid. "Foiled by your intelligence once again. Some day, Daria, I will get you. When you least expect it, I will get you."

"I am overcome with fear," Daria responded sarcastically.

"Oh, that reminds me," Jane announced. "Did you hear what Blackadder's dogsbody did the other day?"

"Do I look like someone who could tolerate knowing anything that Baldrick does and not be terrified?" Daria retorted.

"This one won't actually give you nightmares," Jane stated with assurance. "So the Prince Regent made him a Lord for some stupid reason. He also gave him four hundred thousand pounds, also for some stupid reason. But here's the kicker. Baldrick spent all that money on a giant turnip for the stupid reason that it is his dream turnip."

"You don't say," Daria said.

"It gets better," Jane added. "He had to haggle for it."

"I have to admit, I'm impressed at how much more pathetic a human being could possibly get," Daria proclaimed.

"That some one would take the time and dedication to grow a giant turnip?" Jane asked.

"That any one would be willing to haggle for a turnip, no matter the size," Daria responded.

* * *

For the  
BENEFIT of SEVERAL VIEWERS

LORD AKIYAMA'S  
Much admir'd Comedy

MORGENDORFFER

OR

DISH AND DISHONESTY

was performed with appropriate Scenery Dresses etc.

by

DARIA MORGENDORFFER,  
maid to the Princess,  
Miss. DARIA MORGENDORFFER.

Jane Lane, also maid to the Princess, Miss. JANE LANE.  
Princess Augusta, her highness, Miss. QUINN MORGENDORFFER.  
Queen Charlotte, her majesty, Mrs. HELEN MORGENDORFFER.

Mrs. Miggins, a coffee shoppekeeper, Miss. HELEN ATKINSON-WOOD.  
Edmund Blackadder, butler to the Prince, Mr. ROWAN ATKINSON.

* * *

**Footnotes to History**

**[1]** - The English Regency took place between 1811 and 1820. In _Blackadder the Third_, it took place anywhere between 1755 and 1805 due to the historical events and situations used throughout the series.

**[2]** - Princess Augusta Sophia (1768-1840), the second daughter of six and the sixth child of fifteen to King George III and Queen Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, was actually in her forties during the English Regency. Augusta was selected as the Princess for this story due in part to her having personalities that resemble the closest to Quinn. She had been called "the handsomest of all the Princesses" while also remarked as being "childish" when compared to her older sister Queen Charlotte of Württemberg.

**[3]** - William Pitt the Younger (1759-1806) first became Prime Minister of Great Britain in 1783. At the age of 24, he was the youngest elected to the position at the time. Furthermore, he died five years before the English Regency. In _Blackadder the Third_, he was a petulant teenager who became Prime Minister "right in the middle of (his) exams."

* * *

To conclude with Rule Britannia in full chorus  
NO MONEY RETURN'D


	2. Ink and Incapability

**Morgendorffer**

a _Daria_ and _Blackadder_ fan fiction crossover story

by Lord Akiyama

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Daria _and its characters are copyright © of MTV. _Blackadder _and its characters are copyright © of BBC. This story was created purely out of sheer enjoyment so please don't sue.

This story is based within the third series of the _Blackadder _television programme, _Blackadder the Third_. While actual persons, situations, and locations are present and used, historical accuracy has been thrown completely out of the window for storytelling and entertainment purposes. Factual information of those used in this chapter are noted as best as possible at the bottom under Footnotes to History.

* * *

**Chapter Two  
Ink and Incapability**

* * *

In their room, Daria and Jane were engaged in their individual activities. Daria sat at a desk, writing down words upon a piece of paper every so often. Jane stood at the end of her bed, painting a piece of art with a great deal of vibrant colors. The sunlight had long since ceased piercing through the window, signifying that it was close to mid-day.

"You're sounding awfully quiet this morning, Daria," Jane commented aloud, breaking the long silence between them.

"As we probably both should be, Jane," Daria responded. "I don't want to jinx our good fortune for however long it can last."

"What good fortune would that be?" Jane asked curiously as she continued painting.

"Not being summoned to work," Daria answered.

"Ah," Jane mused. "I had a feeling that there was something strange about us still being in here as noon approached."

"If we're lucky, we'll still be here before dinner time," Daria noted.

"But who would be there to clean up after the spoiled Princess if we're not?" Jane questioned.

"Perhaps she finally figured out that there are some things she can do on her own without the need of assistance," Daria replied.

"Boy, that would be a disaster to see," Jane stated with a slight laugh. "The brat attempting to clean up after yourself."

"I can already picture the aftermath in my head," Daria announced. She looked up from her desk. "Constant sobbing as her attempt to wipe away a spot of tomatoe sauce resulted in her dress turning into an absolute mess."

"The downside being that we won't get to be there to see it all unfold gloriously," Jane pointed out.

"Good point," Daria agreed. After a moment of silence returned, she turned her attention back to what she was writing.

"So, I see you're still working on writing a novel," Jane stated aloud.

"So, I see you're still trying to paint a masterpiece," Daria responded.

"At least I actually complete my work," Jane noted.

"Only for it to be rejected as bizarre and incoherent," Daria commented.

"It's not my fault society has sucky tastes in art," Jane stated. "I'm making an attempt to stand out as an individual from a crowd of nothing more than carbon copies of one another."

"Where would you get that idea?" Daria asked. She looked up over to the other maid with a curious brow raised.

"You wouldn't believe it," Jane began to reply, shaking her head while laughing slightly as she turned to the other. "According to the cousin of Blackadder's dogsbody, all portraits look the same these days. That is because they are painted to a romantic ideal rather than as a true depiction of the idiosyncratic qualities of the subject."

"Baldrick has a cousin?" Daria questioned in amazement.

"Told you you wouldn't believe it," Jane remarked. "Speaking of which, didn't Blackadder try to write a novel?"

"Supposedly," Daria answered.

"What happened?" Jane asked.

"If you must know," Daria replied with a sigh. "He apparently spent seven years writing a book called _Edmund: A Butler's Tale_."

"Gee, I wonder what that's about," Jane mused sarcastically, returning her attention to her painting.

"'A searing indictment of domestic servitude in the eighteenth century, with some hot gypsies thrown in,' as he described it," Daria noted. "Any way, he submitted it to Dr. Johnson a while back and hasn't heard from him since."

"Dr. Johnson?" Jane questioned with a curious brow raised.

"Samuel Johnson," Daria answered. "Word is that he is the cleverest man alive."**[1]**

"Now why would any one want to say such a horrible thing like that?" Jane asked, turning back to the other maid.

"It seems the brainbox has been working tirelessly on what is claimed to be the most important literary work in the history of the English language," Daria replied in explanation. "He calls it the _Dictionary_."

"Do what?" Jane questioned.

"The _Dictionary_," Daria repeated. "A book that documents every word in our language and lists their definition."

"You mean there are people out there who would want to know the definition to sausage?" Jane asked.

"I guess that's what Dr. Johnson was thinking when he first conceived it," Daria noted as her answer.

"And how does all this make him a doctor?" Jane questioned with a smirk on her face.

"Smart ass," Daria commented.

It was then that the bell in the corner rang. Signifying only one thing. "Oh, time to go to work," Jane sighed.

"Damn," Daria sarcastically cursed. "And here I was hoping that I would get the time to finish my novel."

"You barely wrote sixty pages worth," Jane noted as she began to change out of her painting clothes and into her work dress.

"Bugger off," Daria retorted.

"And what does Dr. Johnson's _Dictionary _define that as?" Jane asked in a teasing tone.

* * *

Daria and Jane stood by patiently in the dining room as Queen Charlotte and Princess Augusta ate their breakfast. Charlotte had a copy of the morning paper in one hand while Augusta merely played with her food by twirling her fork slowly.

"I think it's wonderful of your brother to better his intellectual standing," Charlotte announced rather suddenly. "It will further promote his ability to be a distinguished and capable leader when the time comes for him to succeed his father."

"Mother, it's just a book with a bunch of words," Augusta noted. "What's so special about that?"

"What is special is that it contains every single word in our beloved language, Augusta dear," Charlotte replied. "It is my understanding that because of it it is considered the very cornerstone of English scholarship."

"So it contains every word in English," Augusta commented. "It doesn't sound like any thing to get excited about."

"It's a book that is supposed to tell you what each of those words mean," Charlotte stated sternly.

"Well, it seems to me that this Dr. Johnson fellow wasted so much time on a complete cowpat of a book, mother," Augusta complained. "I mean, I know what English words mean. I speak English. So does George. I don't see how a book would help better his intellectual standing if every one knows what English words mean."

"I can think of a trio of high society brats who don't," Jane muttered to Daria quietly.

"It is how and which words he will use that will be of benefit to him, sweetie," Charlotte proclaimed in a firm tone. "And quite frankly, I believe it will also be a benefit for you to do the same. That is why, for the next few days, your lessons will be based specifically in improving your vocabulary."

"Mother!" Augusta whined.

"It is past due for you to truly start acting like the Princess you are and present yourself in a dignified manner," Charlotte stated, maintaining her authority. "Very much like your sister Charlotte has."

"But Charlotte is married," Augusta attempted to reason foolishly.

"That is not an excuse," Charlotte declared. "Now finish your breakfast so that you can get ready for today's lessons. And for goodness sake, Augusta, will you please consider changing out of your morning gown for once?"**[2]**

"This is not going to go smoothly," Daria whispered quietly to Jane.

"Miss. Morgendorffer, if I may have a private word with you," Charlotte said rather suddenly as she got up from her seat.

"Busted," Jane teased under her breath.

"Sod off," Daria grumbled while giving the Queen a curtsy. She then followed the elder woman into the adjacent study room. "How may I serve you, your grace?"

"I am quite certain that there is little doubt to you understanding what you overheard between myself and my daughter," Charlotte began to answer. "Just as I am certain that she will not be putting forth the effort I expect her to with these lessons. So I want you to ensure that Augusta does so. Understand?"

"Yes, your highness," Daria replied.

"I suspect you wish to get extra payment out of this, Miss. Morgendorffer," Charlotte noted. "There won't be. But as compensation, I will consider giving you extra time off from work."

"Much obliged, ma'am," Daria responded.

"Good," Charlotte said. She followed with a satisfied sigh. "Now then, let us return to the dining room so as to make sure my daughter does not run off in some vein attempt to avoid her lessons."

Daria and the Queen returned to the dining room to find a sight that threw them completely off guard. The Princess was sitting still, appearing quite perplexed. Jane stood near her, looking rather content with herself.

"Contra wha?" Augusta questioned with a raised brow.

"Contrafribblarities," Jane replied. "It's a common word down our way."**[3]**

"Really?" Augusta asked in surprise. "I never even heard of such a word before."

"Oh, I'm sorry, your highness," Jane began to say in apology. "I am anaspeptic, phrasmotic, even compunctious to have caused you such pericombobulation."

"Slow down, please," Augusta pleaded, clapping her hands on both sides of her head in a frantic manner. "This is all beginning to sound a bit like dego talk to me."

"Miss. Lane, perhaps you could fetch us some more tea," Charlotte started to say, sensing that the situation was being blown way out of proportion. "I believe we are running a bit low."

"Certainly, your grace," Jane responded with a curtsy. As she was leaving, she managed to bring her attention back to the Princess. "I shall return interphrastically." Augusta practically cried as a result.

* * *

"I see I'm not the only one who's been inspired by the way Blackadder talks," Daria noted as she prepared the study for the forthcoming lessons the Princess would undertake.

"Jealous, Daria?" Jane teased while she was dusting the room.

"Hardly," Daria responded. "I'm just impressed that you managed to pull some thing like that off on the spoiled Princess and not incur the wrath of her mother in the process."

"I couldn't help myself," Jane stated with a slight laugh. "I felt the need to bring the brat down a few notches and it was as magnificent as I had hoped. I plan to do it again should the opportunity arise during her lessons."

"Don't get too excited just yet, Jane," Daria commented. "The Queen herself seemed quite impressed with your display of knowledge in the English language. To the point that if none of the tutors in today's lessons work out, guess who will be forced to get the job done tomorrow morning?"

"You're kidding, right?" Jane asked, having halted her work to turn her full attention to the other maid. There was no immediate answer. All that was needed to say to give her the proper impression. "Damn. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut."

"That probably would not have been a bad idea," Daria noted. "I managed to pass along a request to at least try to find a suitable replacement later this evening if things end up moving along that path. But you better hope the tutors today manage to hold their own without getting broken by the spoiled Princess."

"Why do I have this feeling in my stomach that it won't?" Jane muttered before slowly returning to work.

"Because that will probably be the case," Daria replied with a sigh. "Look, the Queen wants me to ensure that the brat takes her lessons seriously. I can't promise a miracle, but I'll do what I can to prevent a total disaster by evening."

"I am not liking what is sure to be inevitable, Daria," Jane grumbled. "The idea of having to be tutor to her would spell my doom. Perhaps I should consider recanting my Catholicism."

"Just relax, Jane," Daria stated in assurance. "We have been surprised by many things that have happened in this palace. Maybe there's a chance a good one will occur during today's lessons."

* * *

"So you see, your highness?" the first tutor proclaimed in a low, sensitive, yet excitable tone. He was pointing with one hand to a pair of words that had been written on a small chalk board in the other hand. "'Bow' and 'bough' may sound the same, but are quite different. For one, they are spelled differently. For another, they have very different meanings."

"But why have them sound the same if they are so different?" Augusta questioned in a seemingly sudden manner.

"Um... well..." the tutor uttered in complete hesitation. Almost as though he was unprepared. "You see... the naming of these different objects is primarily due to the location of where they were named. One culture is not aware that another culture uses a word the sounds the same as one of their words, but is used in a different manner."

"So why do we still use them?" Augusta asked further.

"Oh... uh..." the tutor uttered, once more thrown off course from his preplanned and predetermined mindset.

"And since we're using the word 'bow,' that particular spelling is also used to name multiple objects," Augusta stated. "We call it the foremost point of a ship's hull the 'bow.' When gentlemen perform a sophisticated gesture to one of great authority, it is called a 'bow.' And what about the archery weapon? It's spelled the same, but is pronounced differently."

Daria and Jane watched with a mixture of impressiveness and disgust. Particularly when the tutor started to breakdown and cry, covering his face with his hands in shame and sorrow. Under normal circumstances, the maids would have found this scene quite enjoyable. However, they were in a situation that was less than positive.

"I do have to admit one thing," Jane whispered quietly to Daria. "This is the first time I've seen the Princess use some form of intelligence to make a man cry."

"And he wasn't even pining for her," Daria added.

"Isn't 'pining' one of those words that has a double meaning?" Jane pointed out.

"Don't even go there," Daria muttered.

* * *

"As you can very well _SEE_, your grace, it is _COMMON _to use the word '_TO_' in various ways," the second tutor announced.

The manner in which he would literally yell at every fifth or sixth word, coupled with his right eye seemingly bulge dangerously as he would say them, would creep out most any one caught conversing with him. Daria and Jane found it amusing. The Princess, on the other hand, was find it rather annoying.

"So how can I tell which of the three variations of the word is most suitable in a sentence?" Augusta asked in tone that made it very apparent that she was bored.

"Which of the three _VARIATIONS _of the word to _USE _is largely dependent upon _WHAT _kind of sentence you are _SAYING_," the tutor replied, further speaking as though he were a high ranking military officer addressing his troops.

"But how will I be able to tell when it is most appropriate to use a particular variation of the word?" Augusta continued to question.

"She's being annoying on purpose, isn't she," Jane noted to Daria quietly.

"You would be too if you thought it would be a fun way to induce a heart-attack in a man," Daria commented in return. "An idea we tragically share with the brat."

"Now what spelling of the word 'to' did you have to use in that sentence of yours?" Jane asked in a teasing tone.

"Trust me, you don't want to keep this up," Daria pointed out. "It is only strengthening the case for you to be giving the lessons the spoiled Princess starting tomorrow."

"Thanks for reminding me," Jane grumbled.

"Well, there's one tutor left today," Daria said. "Pray that one gets the job done, or your in serious trouble."

* * *

"Notice the spelling of 'woman,' your majesty," the third tutor said. "Look real carefully and you'll see that it is spelled in a way so that you would have to say 'man.' As if to say 'man' is so dominant that a 'woman' must bare their name for life."

"Are you suggesting that the label of... of us should be changed so that it would not be connected with... with them?" Augusta asked with a confused brow raised.

"Of course not," the tutor replied sternly. "That's what they want you to believe. They want you to think that you must except 'man' in your name or change it to some other word as a means of maintaining order and control over everything."

"I don't see how exactly all of this is supposed to help me improve my vocabulary," Augusta noted aloud.

"It will help you show that you're not going to stand for it any longer, your highness," the tutor responded in a firm tone. "That you will stand up and fight for your right to be recognized with strength and not wallow in suffering as a result of your husband of twenty-two years running away to the Americas with a much younger looking maid."

"I vaguely recall that maid she's talking about," Jane stated quietly.

"Blonde hair, likes to gossip about every one and every thing no matter their social class non-stop," Daria explained.**[4]**

"Oh yeah, her," Jane said in realization. "Never thought about it because I was so damn happy when I stopped hearing her talk."

"It's just too bad that's not going to help you get out of being the brat's tutor tomorrow," Daria noted.

"I hate when you bring everything back down to reality," Jane muttered. She then sighed. "There's no way in hell I would survive giving lessons to the spoiled Princess. She will drive me insane with her inability to stop talking about how many suitors she dated and then dumped within a matter of two minutes followed by disgusting talk about things that are cute. If I become her tutor tomorrow, I will go down in history as the maid who killed a member of the royal family before hanging herself."

"I thought that was your life-long goal," Daria commented. For this, she received a hard glare from the other maid. "Look, we still got the chance to search for someone tonight we can put in place of you to give the lessons. We'll just drop by Miggins' after servicing dinner. A bunch of poets hang out at her shoppe every night, lamenting about drug addiction, tuberculosis, and other woes they claim to be the inspiration of their work."

"And they call poetry romantic," Jane stated.

* * *

After serving the royal family their dinner, Daria and Jane quickly changed out of their work dresses and into street clothes. They swiftly made their way down to Mrs. Miggins' shoppe and stopped short of opening the door. Looking through the windows, they noticed that there was something going on that appeared less than typical.

"You should take me to Miggins' more often, Daria," Jane stated. "A scene like this looks very much like my kind of place."

"This is not a normal display of tomfoolery, Jane," Daria noted. "I don't recall the 'literary salon' being this exciting."

"Hey look," Jane said, pointing to a specific blurred figure. "Isn't that Blackadder being verbally accosted by that heavy man?"

"It would appear so," Daria replied, after squinting her eyes. "And it looks like that dogsbody of his is with him as well."

From what they could see, Edmund Blackadder and his dogsbody, Baldrick, were conversing with four men. One of whom was quite big in size. The other three displayed themselves in a manner that made them out as companions to the larger man. Whereas Blackadder tried to look and appear more distinguished than his social status, Baldrick looked as though he had just been removed from the gutter and had little time to even wash his face.

"Now this should be quite lovely to see," Jane commented in a rather enjoyable tone. "Let's watch for a bit."

"If you say so," Daria responded. "It's your neck on the line if we don't find someone to take your place tomorrow."

"I should not lose the book, sir," the heavy man proclaimed. He then stood up with his coffee cup in hand. "And if any other man should, I would tear off his head with my bare hands and feed it to the cat!" He then crushed the coffee cup in relative ease.

"Well, that's nice and clear" Blackadder managed to utter after sitting down in a brief moment of terrified hesitation.

"And I, Lord Byron, would summon up fifty of my men, lay siege to the fellow's house and do bloody murder on him," one of the three other men announced. He unsheathed his sword and rested the blade upon Baldrick's shoulder. The other two men followed his lead by unsheathing their blades. One pointed his sword at Baldrick, the other pointed at Blackadder.

"And I would not rest until the criminal was hanging by his hair, with an Oriental disemboweling cutlass thrust up his ignoble behind," the one pointing his blade at Blackadder stated.

"I hope you're listening to all this, Baldrick," Blackadder commented.

"Aren't you going to consider swooping in there and rescuing your beloved?" Jane asked in a teasing voice.

"Keep that up and you'll be doing more than just tutoring the spoiled Princess tomorrow," Daria responded. "Did you know that she likes to have a sponge bath before meeting potential suitors and that she requires the assistance of a maid to help wash her?"

"You wouldn't dare," Jane seethed while glaring at the other maid.

"I would," Daria stated.

Jane sighed. "So... recognize any of those three helping out the big guy?"

"Vaguely," Daria answered. "They're regulars here at Miggins' whenever she turns the shoppe into a literary salon, or so she says. That's Lord Byron who had his sword on Baldrick's shoulder. The one pointing his sword at Baldrick directly is Percy Bysshe Shelley. And the one pointing his blade at Blackadder is Samuel Taylor Coleridge."**[5]**

"They seem rather cheerful," Jane noted.

"Spend ten minutes with them and see for yourself if they're cheerful," Daria said.

"I take it they'd make unlikely candidates to cover for me," Jane commented.

"That would be an understatement," Daria responded.

The two maids took a few steps back when they noticed that the door into the shoppe was about to open. Exiting was none other than Blackadder and Baldrick. Blackadder appeared quite shaken up and was on edge upon recognizing a pair of familiar faces after walking through the door and out into the street.

"Ah!" Blackadder nearly cried. He then relaxed a little upon seeing the maids. "Miss. Morgendorffer, Miss. Lane. How impetuous it is to see you fine ladies at this time?"

"'Alo laides," Baldrick said casually.

"Miss. Morgendorffer wishes to inquire about what just happened in there, Mr. Blackadder," Jane stated with a smirk on her face. This did not go unnoticed as Daria shot a glare in her direction.

"Does she now?" Blackadder asked with a raised brow. "Well, if you must know, we were here in a gallant attempt to panacea another one of Baldrick's staggering abilities of unimaginable stupidity. The results were, as you saw, not quite benignant."

"Seemed like a nice bunch of blokes to me," Baldrick commented in a seemingly cheerful mood.

"So I saw," Daria noted. "They must have been using their blades as a means of proclaiming their friendship to you."

"Oh, you see, Mr. B?" Baldrick stated, his mood even more cheerful than before. "There's nothin' ta worry about. They were just jokin' about killin' us for losin' his book."

"Then let me proclaim my friendship to you, Baldrick, by draining blood out of your body and then stringing you up with the rest of the Prince's dinner for tomorrow," Blackadder said sternly.

"Thank you very much, sir," Baldrick responded, oblivious to the fact that he was actually being threatened.

"But not before you spend five minutes with me and this pencil," Blackadder added. It was this sentence that finally managed to make the dogsbody realize what mood his master was in.

"You lost someone's book?" Daria questioned with a curious brow raised.

"Misplaced," Blackadder corrected. "That is the more applicable word. Baldrick here misplaced Dr. Johnson's book."

"That's Dr. Johnson?" Jane asked. She looked far from impressed, rather she seemed a little sickened that such a heavy-set man would be the famed literary genius.

"I wouldn't prescribe seeking his autograph at this time, if I were you," Blackadder noted. "He and his companions are quite too jovial at the moment to be bothered with veneration from the adoring public. Now if you will excuse us, there is much work to be done before tomorrow morning. Blood letting takes a great deal of time, you know. After which I will be leaving immediately for Nepal, where I intend to live out the rest of my life as a goat."

"Sounds like fun," Jane commented aloud as she watched Blackadder bow to the maids and then leave.

"Good evenin'," Baldrick announced, waving slightly before following his master.

"Well, that was lovely," Jane sighed.

"It also puts us in a predicament," Daria pointed out. "Every literary person in there is probably in the mood of eating plague carrying rats than consider doing something for a member of the royal family."

"I didn't know Blackadder had that effect on people," Jane noted.

"More like Baldrick, actually," Daria corrected. "The point is we're not going to find someone in this shoppe who would be willing to take your place tomorrow."

"There's got to be something, Daria," Jane said, almost in a pleading tone. "I'd join Baldrick in getting drained of blood and being part of the Prince's dinner for tomorrow before I get within one second of tutoring the brat."

Daria thought for a moment and then gave out a heavy sigh. "We may have one option left," she proclaimed. "You just have to about having a comfortable sleep tonight."

* * *

The carriage came to a stop before a brick cottage. Daria informed the driver to wait before leading Jane toward the building. Jane looked around with a curious brow raised at the location they find themselves in while Daria knocked gently on the door.

"So what are we doing in Chawton?" Jane asked.

"I'm calling in a favor just so I can get you out of tutoring the brat tomorrow," Daria replied.

"Who in Chawton owes you a favor?" Jane questioned further.

"Jane Austen," Daria answered.**[6]**

Jane widened her eyes is astonishment. "The Jane Austen?" she asked.

"The same," Daria replied, showing no hint of being awe-struck as the other maid.

Jane blinked a couple times and then raised her brow again. "Didn't Blackadder say that Jane Austen was just the female pseudonym used by a huge Yorkshire man with a beard like a rhododendron bush?" she questioned.

"Please," Daria began to answer. "Jane Austen is as real of a name as Daria Morgendorffer. She's also as much of a female as you and me. As brilliant as Blackadder is, even he can be tricked if his only meeting with her consisted of just seeing her beard."

Before any thing more could be said, the door opened and the maids found themselves in the presence of Jane Austen herself. She truly was a sensible looking woman. Even if she did have quite the beard on her face.

"Miss. Morgendorffer," the author proclaimed. Her voice putting to rest doubt of her gender. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Miss. Austen," Daria said with a curtsy. "This is my fellow employee, Miss. Lane."

"How do you do, ma'am?" Jane asked with a curtsy of her own.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss. Lane," Jane Austen said affectionately with a nod of her head. "Won't you two come in? It's a little late for tea, I'm afraid."

"Actually, we're in a bit of a hurry," Daria stated. "Remember that favor you owe me?"

"Yes, I very much remember," Jane Austen answered after stroking her beard for a second. "I've been hoping for the chance to thank you for helping me getting _Mansfield Park_ published."

"You helped her get _Mansfield Park_ published?" Jane asked Daria in surprise.

"Don't ask," Daria responded. She then brought her attention back to the author. "Look, Miss. Austen, the favor is real simple. Miss. Lane here is in a predicament and would really appreciate if you would tutor Princess Augusta in the morning."

"Tutor Princess Augusta?" Jane Austen repeated, blinking her eyes a couple times. "Oh dear. You know I am perfectly content with remaining here are home." She continued to stroke her beard some more and brought her attention to Jane, sensing that the maid truly was troubled by her situation. "But I do owe you that favor. And Miss. Lane does look rather desperate. You like the kind who deserves the help. And I would not want to deny that for any one."

"Miss. Austen, you have no idea how much this means to me," Jane exhaled in relief.

"So we are to leave at this moment, correct?" Jane Austen asked.

"Ideally," Daria replied. "Though I suggest you do one thing before we leave."

* * *

"Miss. Austen, I cannot thank you enough for taking time to provide such a special lesson for my daughter," Queen Charlotte raved as she accompanied the author toward the carriage waiting outside the palace. They were followed by Daria and Jane. "I believe I can speak behalf on the rest of the royal family that you are a truly magnificent individual."

"You are too kind, your majesty," Jane Austen said. "It was my honor to help the Princess improve her intellectual standing."

"Now you'll have to excuse me," Charlotte stated rather suddenly. "I would very much like to see you off, but my husband appears to be having another of his spectacular episodes. If I recall correctly, he imagines himself a penguin. Miss. Morgendorffer and Miss. Lane will see you out. Good day, Miss. Austen." With a satisfied smile on her face, the Queen turned and made her way back into the palace.

"Good day, your grace," Jane Austen called out.

"Thank you again for helping me out," Jane proclaimed. "I hope the experience wasn't too terrible."

"On the contrary," Jane Austen announced. "I found the whole thing to be quite enjoyable. As a matter of fact, I believe it has brought about inspiration for my next novel."

"Really?" Daria asked in surprise.

"Yes," Jane Austen responded before stepping into the carriage. "Well, it was a pleasure seeing you again, Miss. Morgendorffer. It certainly was a pleasure meeting you, Miss. Lane. Please come by whenever you have the chance so I can be the proper hostess I intended to be last night."

"If we ever get a day off, we'll certainly take you up on that offer," Daria noted.

Jane Austen gave the driver a nod and the carriage began to move. "Farewell, ladies," she stated. "May we meet again." The author waved, which the two maids returned in kind, until she could no longer be seen as the carriage disappeared in the distance to return her to her Chawton home.

"You know the sad thing about all of this," Daria said. "Jane Austen managed to turn the brat into a well behaved lady, but in a week's time it will all be for naught."

"At least it gave her an idea for a story," Jane pointed out. "I can't wait to read what she writes." There was a moment of pause between the maids before they turned to head back into the palace. "So how did you help get _Mansfield Park_ published?"

"I helped finance her," Daria answered.

"Where the hell did you get the money?" Jane questioned further.

"Do you really want to know?" Daria asked with a sigh.

"Of course I do," Jane replied with anticipation. "I want to know every sensual detail."

"You're not going to like it," Daria responded. She waited a quiet second before proceeding. "Remember that one art piece by George Stubbs that you swear was actually yours? The one of the lion attacking the horse."**[7]**

Jane nodded. And then realized what the other maid was talking about. They came to a full stop and she glared at Daria with fury in her eyes. "You... did... not..." she seethed.

* * *

For the  
BENEFIT of SEVERAL VIEWERS

LORD AKIYAMA'S  
Much admir'd Comedy

MORGENDORFFER

OR

INK AND INCAPABILITY

was performed with appropriate Scenery Dresses etc.  
by

DARIA MORGENDORFFER,  
maid to the Princess,  
Miss. DARIA MORGENDORFFER.

Jane Lane, also maid to the Princess, Miss. JANE LANE.  
Princess Augusta, her highness, Miss. QUINN MORGENDORFFER.  
Queen Charlotte, her majesty, Mrs. HELEN MORGENDORFFER.

Jane Austen, author, Mrs. AMANDA LANE.  
First Tutor, Mr. TIMOTHY O'NEILL.  
Second Tutor, Mr. ANTHONY DeMARTINO.  
Third Tutor, Miss. JANET BARCH.

Dr. Samuel Johnson, noted for his fat dictionary, Mr. ROBBIE COLTRANE.  
Byron, first romantic junkie poet, Mr. STEVE STEEN.  
Coleridge, second romantic junkie poet, Mr. JIM SWEENEY.  
Shelley, other romantic junkie poet, Mr. LEE CORNES.  
Baldrick, a dogsbody, Mr. TONY ROBINSON.  
Edmund Blackadder, butler to the Prince, Mr. ROWAN ATKINSON.

* * *

**Footnotes to History**

**[1]** - Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) was responsible for writing _A Dictionary of the English Language_, which was published in 1755. Prince George IV would not have been born until seven years after the first publication of the book and Dr. Johnson would die 25 years before the English Regency. In _Blackadder the Third_, Dr. Johnson is seeking patronage for the book from the Prince Regent.

**[2]** - Augusta and her sisters Charlotte and Elizabeth were known to wear their morning gowns all day until it was dinner time whenever they remained at home, which was very often for the younger of the three siblings Augusta and Elizabeth. They continued with this practice even when they were adults. They still were able to spend a great deal of money over time on plain, yet expensive dresses, hats, trimmings, fans, and other fashion accessories at the expense of their mother.

**[3]** - This dialogue scene was inspired, almost word for word, from the original "Ink and Incapability" episode of _Blackadder the Third_ in which Blackadder congratulated Dr. Johnson on writing a book that contained every word in the English language.

**[4]** - The girl described is known generally as The Popular Girl in "The Invitation" episode of _Daria_, though most fans have since given her the name of Tori Jericho.

**[5]** - George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron (1788-1824), Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822), and Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834) were some of the most well known romantic poets in English literature. Neither one was alive when the Dictionary was published in 1755 and Coleridge was not even in his teens when Dr. Johnson died in 1784. In _Blackadder the Third_, they are admirers of Dr. Johnson and are further described as "romantic junkie poets."

**[6]** - Jane Austen (1775-1817) was arguably one of the most beloved and widely regarded female author in history. Her sense of realism as well as biting social commentary cemented her among the most important in literature. In _Blackadder the Third_, the titles for each episode of the series was also a play on how the title of her book _Sense and Sensibility_ was worded, pairing a noun with another, which was derived from an alliterative cognate adjective. Blackadder claimed her, along with Ann Radcliffe and Dorothy Wordsworth, to be men using female pseudonyms because it was the popular thing to do. This was a play on how it was the other way around, where women generally published their work under male pseudonyms.

**[7]** - _Horse Attacked by a Lion_ was pained by George Stubbs sometime within 1762-1765. Given the timeline period of _Blackadder the Third_, it would fit rather appropriately.

* * *

To conclude with Rule Britannia in full chorus  
NO MONEY RETURN'D


	3. Nob and Nobility

**Morgendorffer**

a _Daria_ and _Blackadder_ fan fiction crossover story

by Lord Akiyama

* * *

Author's Note: Daria and its characters are copyright © of MTV. Blackadder and its characters are copyright © of BBC. This story was created purely out of sheer enjoyment so please don't sue.

This story is based within the third series of the Blackadder television programme, Blackadder the Third. While actual persons, situations, and locations are present and used, historical accuracy has been thrown completely out of the window for storytelling and entertainment purposes. Factual information of those used in this chapter are noted as best as possible at the bottom under Footnotes to History.

* * *

**Chapter Three  
Nob and Nobility**

* * *

Daria and Jane stood by patiently. They were to one side, watching with great disgust as Princess Augusta sat in one of the garden tables with her high society friends. The three girls were Lady Sandi of Griffin, Lady Stacy of Rowe, and Lady Tiffany of Blum-Deckler. The two maids were to serve whenever one of the four girls called for them. What made the situation of their occupation even more unpleasant was that they had to listen to every word the brats were saying.

"These are exciting times we live in, your highness," Staci announced in a low, sonorous voice. "These French people coming into the country bring with them a bunch of fashion ideas for us to use."

"Yeah..." Tiffany agreed in a drawl tone. "Exciting..."

"Exciting indeed," Stacy noted. She then gave out a loving sigh. "What with the Scarlet Pimpernel about and all."**[1]**

"It truly is a French Revolution, ladies," Augusta proclaimed. "A revolution in fashion."**[2]**

"The time has come, Daria," Jane whispered so that the high society girls could not hear. "We must follow the example of our French brethren and rise up against our aristocratic oppressors. Our very sanity is at stake."

"What fine martyrs we would make, Jane," Daria pointed out in the same low voice. "Executed for attempting to overthrow the government simply because the brat and her friends perfected the fine art of talking."

"It is a shame that those French people still in France no nothing of real fashion," Staci stated.

"Dirty French people..." Tiffany added.

"It is like they never heard of silk or even cotton before," Augusta noted. "And the nerve of them to behead those who know a thing or two about proper dresses. They must have been so jealous to something horrible like that."

"Just thinking about him makes him all the more dashing," Stacy mused, descending further into her state of daydreaming. "Swooping in there to save those innocent French people."

"Innocent she says," Jane commented.

"Oh yes," Daria said. "There was no reason for the peasants to attack the aristocrats simply because the lower class was unjustly required to pay nearly all of their income to the rising taxes while the nobles were exempted."

"Speaking of the French people who are here," Sandi stated. "I believe I am right to assume we have all been invited to the French Embassy Ball. That would make a fine setting to present ourselves as the most fashionable ladies in all of England."

"I bet... we will be... the talk... of the... town..." Tiffany added.

"Maybe even attract the attention of a masked hero," Stacy sighed, now completely lost in her fantasies. Until she was pulled back to reality by the others.

"Lady Stacy, get a hold of yourself," Augusta said. "Everyone knows the Scarlet Pimpernel would never show himself unless it was in France to rescue someone from those silly peasants."

"Can you imagine just how wonderfully she would go over with those very peasants?" Jane asked with a curious brow raised.

"About the same as the peasants serving her," Daria replied. "Only they have pitch forks and torches."

"I knew there was something I forgot to bring today," Jane cursed.

"If I may say so, your majesty," Sandi announced. "This Ball is to celebrate those French people who are here. The center of attention would be them, not any one else. But suppose there is a Ball in which we... I mean, you were the center of attention."

"No one... would be... more popular..." Tiffany noted.

"That's true," Stacy proclaimed, finally including herself into the proper conversation. "Because if we, like, dress like the French, we wouldn't stand out in their Ball because everyone else is dressed like the French. But in another Ball, we would stand out because we're the ones dressed like the French."

"Dear God, Daria," Jane commented in shock. "Did they just make a logical analysis?"

"I think you're right, Jane," Daria responded. "The time to act may indeed be upon us. We must bring them down before their intelligence grows any more than it already has."

"Throwing our own Ball where we would be the ones to display our knowledge of ideal French fashion?" Augusta questioned. "That sounds like an excellent idea, ladies. When should we have it?"

"I was thinking, your grace, that you should have it at the same time as the French Embassy Ball," Sandi replied.

"At the same time?" Augusta repeated with a hint of hesitation in her voice. "But I'm expected to go to that one."

"True," Sandi began to explain. "But then everyone of noble blood is expected to go. What would make our... I mean, your Ball greater would be that any one could go. Even those who are not of noble blood."

"Open... to the... people..." Tiffany added.

"Oh my gosh, that is such a neat idea," Stacy stated with a great deal of excitement. "Then all of England would see for themselves that we are the fashion trend setters."

"Well, this is unexpected," Jane noted. "Now they are going to be begging us peasants to start a revolution on them."

"Never doubt their incredible ability to dismiss a flash of genius just as quickly," Daria pointed out.

* * *

Daria and Jane stood by patiently. They were to one side, watching with great interest in the dining room as Princess Augusta tried to explain to her mother Queen Charlotte over dinner why she wanted to throw her own Ball. Charlotte looked quite uneasy just listening to the proposal in the first place.

"I don't know, Augusta dear," Charlotte said as they took the last few bites of dinner. "I mean, by throwing a Ball of your own, you are essentially pulling out of the one from the French Embassy. Which, given your being of royalty, are expected to attend."

"But mother, think about it," Augusta pleaded. "The French Embassy Ball can only be attended by those of nobility. It sends the message to the people of our country that these feeble revolutionists may have the right idea. Should it not be our duty to let the people of our country know that we are caring of their rights and demands by allowing them to participate in a Royal Ball?"

"You don't seem surprised she managed to say something like that," Jane whispered to the other maid.

"That's because she paid me two hundred guineas to write up a series of answers to use on her mother," Daria responded.

"Sounds like two hundred guineas well spent," Jane commented.

"It will be if she fibs," Daria pointed out.

"You do make a fair point, sweetie," Charlotte admitted with a sigh. "Lord knows we want our foreign guests to find themselves facing another unruly mob of peasants. Still, running it against the French Embassy Ball seems a little... disrespectful."

"The Ball I'm throwing can't be disrespectful if we are celebrating the same thing," Augusta explained.

"Okay, that one I did not write for her," Daria noted.

"Daria, what have you done?" Jane asked in quiet horror. "You've created a monster."

"Well, you seem... impassioned about the idea," Charlotte stated. She gave out another sigh, this one in defeat. "And it would be a sign of goodwill for the people to see us in a more positive light. Very well, you may throw this Ball of yours."

"Oh mother, thank you!" Augusta cheered, leaping to her feet in delight. "It will be the grandest Ball of them all!" She immediately dashed out of the dining room, no doubt making her way straight to her bedroom.

Charlotte sighed against and turned to the maids. "Miss. Morgendorffer, may I have a word with you?" she asked. She then got to her feet and headed toward the adjacent study room.

"Dammit," Jane cursed under her breath. "Why does she get to ask you for the favors?"

"Because I'm the one of the two of us she can negotiate a reasonable bribe with," Daria answered. She ignored the glare she was receiving from the other maid and proceeded to follow the Queen. Once she was in the adjacent study room, she made a curtsy. "How may I be of service, your grace?"

"I doubt I have to spell it out to you how concerned I am with my daughter throwing this Ball of hers," Charlotte began to proclaim. "For one, it's running against that of the French Embassy Ball, which she is expected to attend. For another, her Ball is open to the public. And while it may seem like a good gesture, there is no question of just how many radicals out there would love for a chance to do something horrible upon our family."

"In short, you want me to make sure nothing bad happens at her Ball," Daria summarized.

"I am quite certain you can manage a way to accomplish this for an extra five hundred guineas," Charlotte noted.

Daria thought for a moment then gave out a sigh of her own. "I've always wanted to be at a royal Ball of this magnitude, your majesty," she stated. Her way of saying that she would perform the requested deed.

"Thank you, Miss. Morgendorffer," Charlotte said. "You may be excused."

Daria made one more curtsy before returning to the dining room. She joined Jane in cleaning up the table when she thought she heard someone calling to her in a whisper. She looked around and found that Princess Augusta was summoning her into another room. The two maids looked at one another in confusion and then shrugged before Daria made her way over to the Princess.

"What can I do for you, your highness?" Daria asked with a curtsy after entering the room.

"Okay, here's the thing," Augusta began to explain in response. "My friends and I will be spending the whole week studying French dresses and gowns in preparation for the Ball. That leaves me with little time to plan and organize it."

Daria let out a silent sight. "In other words, you want me to plan and organize your Ball for you since you will not be able to do so due to you and your friends shopping for clothes," she summarized.

"I'll pay you an extra three hundred guineas on top of the two hundred I owe you for helping me convince mother to let me have the ball," Augusta stated.

Daria did her best to prevent any sort of frustrated emotion from appearing on her face. "Very well," she said. "I'll do it."

"Great!" Augusta cheered. "Oh, and make sure it has a French style theme, okay? We don't want to be disrespecting our foreign guests, now do we." She then turned and made her way back to her bedroom.

"No more than you already have by not attending their Ball," Daria muttered quietly before turning to the dining room.

"Boy, keep this up and you'll be a part of the aristocracy before you know it," Jane commented as the two maids continued to clean up the table of breakfast.

"If only," Daria said. "I'm just wondering if I will be able to look back and contemplate whether the trouble I had to endure to achieve such financial standing was worth it."

"So what pray tell have you been bribed to do?" Jane asked curiously.

"The Queen is paying me five hundred to keep an eye on the Ball, making sure that nothing bad happens," Daria replied. "And then the brat is paying me an extra three hundred to plan and organize the damn thing. Combined with the two hundred being owed to me for writing up those statements, and I should be a thousand guineas richer by week's end."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Jane said in a mocking tone.

"Did I mention that the Ball has to have a French theme?" Daria retorted.

"Oh, well when you put it that way," Jane noted.

"Which is why you're going to help me with all of this," Daria stated.

"Again?" Jane groaned.

"I'll split the bribe with you," Daria said. "Five hundred guineas for me, five hundred guineas for you."

"Damn you and your negotiating skills," Jane cursed sarcastically.

* * *

The two maids entered Mrs. Miggins' shoppe and found themselves surprised with how relatively empty it was. Even though it was still early in the morning, they had expected at least a good number of French customers based on the word they had been hearing on the streets. The two sat themselves at the counter, waiting for Mrs. Miggins to see to them.

"You still haven't answered my question, Daria," Jane stated in a teasing tone.

"And which question would that be, Jane?" Daria asked.

"This one," Jane replied. "Why are we not seeking advice from Blackadder?"

"You just want to see if either one of us would get nervous being in one another's company, don't you?" Daria pointed out with a glare. "In any event, it would have been useless to seek his advice on this matter."

"Oh?" Jane quipped. "Do tell."

"Blackadder has a seemingly legendary hate for the French," Daria explained. "He's even more disgusted that us Britains we welcoming these 'garlic-chewing whoopsies,' as he calls them, with open arms since they've been our traditional enemy."

"In other words, he'd tell us to sod off before we can explain why we sought his advice in setting up a French theme Ball for the spoiled Princess," Jane summarized.

"If he knew that we were doing this for a member of the royal family, he'd have Baldrick tell us to sod off," Daria pointed out.

"Now that is insulting," Jane commented.

It was then that Mrs. Miggins made her appearance, emerging from the back room and swiftly making her way over to them. A huge, ugly smile on her face that displayed the horribly yellow teeth that matched her dirty, ragged hair.

"Ah, good day, lovelies," she announced. "What can I do for you both?"

"We come seeking coffee and some shepherd's pie," Jane answered.

"Oh, sorry, dears," Mrs. Miggins stated. "We don't serve pies any more. As I told Mr. Blackadder the other day, my French clientèle consider pies to be uncouth."

"Dare I ask how he responded, Mrs. Miggins?" Daria questioned.

"He said something like 'a nation that eats snails and would go to bed with the kitchen sink if it put on a tutu is in any position to preach couthness,' if I recall correctly," Mrs. Miggins replied.

"Boy, you weren't kidding about his hating the French," Jane noted to Daria.

"Actually, Mrs. Miggins, we come seeking your assistance," Daria said to the shoppekeeper. "The royal brat has tasked us with putting together a French theme Ball to occur at the same time as the French Embassy Ball. We need help organizing it. Do you know any one we can talk to about it?"

"Isn't the Princess expected to attend the French Embassy Ball?" Mrs. Miggins asked.

"Let's just say she got talked into opening the doors for her to be publicly executed because her friends want to display themselves as fashion goddesses," Jane answered.

"Taking a page from Mr. Blackadder, I see, girls," Mrs. Miggins giggled in amusement.

"Miss. Morgendorffer here wants to do more than that," Jane teased.

"Will that be before or after I bathe you in Baldrick's acidic sweat glands?" Daria retorted with a glare.

"So what your saying, girls, is that the Princess is throwing a public Ball with a French theme just so she and her friends can be the center of attention for having the latest fashion trends?" Mrs. Miggins summarized.

"You left out the bit where she'll get executed," Jane stated sarcastically.

"I'll tell you what," Mrs. Miggins proclaimed. "You hire me on to cater the event, and I'll direct you to someone who can get you in touch with the very person who can help you organize the Ball."

"Let me guess," Daria began to say in response. "You want front row seats to the bonfires the peasants will set."

"I may not be a royal cook, but everyone knows I can make a better sausage than that wanker of a chef being employed," Mrs. Miggins boasted rather proudly.

"Works for me," Jane said.

"Very well," Daria stated. "You can cater the event. So who is it you're directing us to and who is it they can get us in touch with so we can end our miserable search as quickly as possible?"

* * *

"A Ball?" the ditzy blonde said in a highly excited, if not irritating, voice. "A Ball that I would be able to go to?"

"Yes, ma'am," the dark skinned maid replied with a nod. "What's more, her majesty the Princess wishes for you to help organize the event. She recognizes your talent in hosting the most magnificent of Balls."

"Wow!" the blonde cheered. "She must have liked that Costume Ball I did where I had that magnificent swan dress."**[3]**

"Oh, yes," Jane said quietly to Daria. "I'm sure the Princess liked it very much."

"Maybe if I do this, Sir Kevvy will finally propose to me so that when he becomes Duke I'll be Dukess," the blonde continued. "Dukess Brittany... That sounds so much better than Lady Brittany. Right, Miss. London?"

"Yes, my lady," the dark skinned maid answered with a sigh. "Miss. Landon agrees with you very much."

"Tell me she doesn't have to deal with this all the time," Jane asked Daria in a whisper.

"I'm afraid it's much worse," Daria responded. "Not only does Jodie have to deal with this from Lady Brittany on a daily basis, but also from the dumb blonde's beau, Sir Kevin."

"Yipes," Jane muttered. "Just yipes."

"But remember, ma'am," Jodie said. "The Princess wishes for the Ball to have a French theme."

"Don't worry, Miss. London," Brittany stated in assurance. "I know a thing or two about the French. Remember when my family and I spent a year living in French?"

"It's not too late to weasel my way out of this and not be punished by the Queen, is it?" Jane asked Daria.

* * *

Daria and Jane stood by patiently. They were to one side, watching as Lady Brittany directed Jodie and other servants in putting the finishing touches. It was the day of the Ball and everything looked as the maids had expected. Like a less-than-intelligent English aristocrat tried to put together a Ball with a French theme. The one thing that amazed them was how she was able to create such an authentic smell of garlic.

"This is going to be best Ball ever!" Lady Brittany cheered. "All because of me!"

"Like she'll get any sort of credit," Jane noted quietly to Daria.

"She will if it tanks," Daria pointed out.

Moments later, a familiar figure came waddling into the building. Wearing the all too recognizable ugly smile on her face. "Sorry I'm late, dearies," Mrs. Miggins declared. "So many customers wanting some of my Willy du Jour. It's become quite the hit." She started to giggle as she made her way over to the tables set up for catering.

"Over someone's head, that is," Daria added quietly to Jane.

Several moments later, a dark skinned man entered. The suit he was wearing made it very clear that he was a butler. He brought his hand up to cover a light cough before speaking. "Presenting..." he began to announce. "Sir Kevin Thompson!"

Sir Kevin made his grand entrance. Or about as grand as one would expect from him. Walking in wearing a formal military uniform, even though the shirt was completely unbuttoned. Not to mention the inside shirt was loosely untucked. Aside from how messy he looked, he was grinning like he was the best man in the room.

"Kevvy!" Lady Brittany swooned, rushing over to her beau in a mad dash that left many of the assisting maids nearly falling on their faces. "You made it!"

"Hey babe," Sir Kevin responded in a high enthusiastic voice. He then barely looked at the decorations. "Cool. It's all shiny and stuff."

"You like it?" Lady Brittany asked sweetly, hanging on to his arm. "Wait until the Princess arrives. She'll be so impressed, she'll make me an honorary lady. And then I'll be the talk of the town for having put together a great Ball for the royal family."

"But I get to be the one talking, right babe?" Sir Kevin asked in confusion.

"Must we really stick around for this?" Jane questioned in a mutter.

"Believe me," Daria began to answer. "I would like nothing more than to stuff myself in an oven. But we have to get paid first."

"Yeah, really," Jane grumbled. "A thousand guineas, minus the four hundred we are to pay Lady Brittany and Mrs. Miggins for all of this."

"We're still getting three hundred each, Jane," Daria pointed out. "That's better than getting paid nothing for the headache we're about to receive in mere moments."

"We better be getting three hundred each, Daria," Jane demanded. "Because if we don't, I'm starting the revolution early and I'm taking you down with me before all is said and done."

"My, you're being hostile this evening," Daria noted.

"I think the Will du Jour is doing something to my insides," Jane explained. "Which in turn is affecting my sense of reason."

"Giant sausages will do that to you," Daria commented.

"I sometimes wonder if I should become a vegan," Jane said.

"You wouldn't last ten seconds as one," Daria stated.

"Damn you, Daria," Jane cursed. "You know me too well."

Jodie paid no attention to the other maids. She was instead keeping her eye on the butler who was now making his way toward them. Daria and Jane took notice, with the latter deciding to have a little fun at their expense. At the very least, it would keep her from quickly losing her mind.

"Ladies," the butler said, lightly bowing to them. Jodie was the only one who responded with a curtsy.

"Mr. MacKenzie," Daria noted with a nod.

"Miss. Landon was just telling us how you look rather dashing this evening," Jane stated.

"Girls," Jodie hissed before turning back to Mr. MacKenzie in embarrassment.

Daria decided to cut short the fun before it could get rolling. "And now you're in a talkative mood," she noted to Jane. "Almost as though you're slowly turning into one of the brats."

"Oh, the irony of it all," Jane commented. "They're getting smarter and I'm becoming a part of them."

"I think you need to lie down, Jane," Daria proclaimed.

"Not until the revolution gets underway, dammit," Jane stated.

"If you say so," Daria muttered with a shrug.

Moments had passed before four young ladies entered. The Ball had officially begun. Princess Augusta and her friends appeared, wearing what they believed to be the latest in French formal wear. They looked around at the decorations that had been set up and were genuinely impressed.

"If I may be so bold to say so, your majesty," Lady Sandi exclaimed. "This will surely be an eventful Ball this evening."

"Colorful..." Lady Tiffany uttered.

"Those statues look so life-like," Lady Stacy gasped.

"Only the finest for a Ball for us," Augusta said. She turned her attention to the girl responsible for putting together the look of the Ball. "Lady Brittany, it looks absolutely marvelous."

"Did you hear that, Kevvy?" Lady Brittany squealed to her beau. "The Princess said I did marvelable."

"Sure you did, babe," Sir Kevin responded. "You always do." What was not apparent to any one else save the servants was that he had no clue what was going on. He merely smiled and checked out any thing that was female. Even the statues.

"So, like, where are all the people?" Lady Sandi noted. She did so purposefully aloud. "You would think they would want to come to a public Ball thrown by the Princess."

"Yeah..." Lady Tiffany agreed. "So empty..."

"Oh my gosh!" Lady Stacy cried. "Did the Scarlet Pimpernel appear and we not know about it?"

"Lady Stacy, get a hold of yourself," Augusta stated. She then looked around nervously, seeing for herself the lack of audience in the Ball. "I'm sure the people are getting dressed."

"This is going to be a long night, isn't it?" Jane commented to Daria.

"I'm afraid so," Daria replied.

"Those damn revolutionists," Jane cursed. "Too lazy to come to such an obvious opportunity to strike at the aristocracy."

"You put too much faith in the people, Jane," Daria pointed out.

Several moments had passed with the guests looking rather dejected about the lack of an actual night of entertainment occurring. It was then that some one that they least expected entered.

"Mother?" Augusta cried. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, Augusta dear," Charlotte sighed. "It seems there was an incident over at the French Embassy. Apparently some revolutionary managed to take over the whole place and now there's no Ball to be had there."

Seconds later, a large group of men and women entered. Many of whom were French. They looked with great amusement at the decorations and seemed satisfied enough to enjoy themselves.

"Those bastards," Jane muttered quietly. "They went to wrong place."

"Never trust a rebellion to start an uprising by the book," Daria noted.

"It was rather fortunate of you to have a Ball tonight, sweetie," Charlotte said cheerfully. "So I hope you all don't mind the extra company. Our foreign guests have been dying for some fun and enjoyment after all they've been through."

"Just great," Lady Sandi scoffed. "Now how are we supposed to stand out when we look like all these French people."

"Very similar..." Lady Tiffany observed aloud. Or rather as aloud as she could get.

"An uprising at the French Embassy?" Lady Stacy gasped. "Maybe the Scarlet Pimpernel will be there!"

"Lady Stacy, please," Augusta demanded in exhaustion. "No more talk about the Scarlet Pimpernel tonight. Let's just try to have as much fun as we can."

The Ball went on, becoming more extravagant as time passed. In fact, Princess Augusta was finding herself the center of attention from those in attendance. Daria noted that it was not so much from the dress she was wearing.

"I was liking this Ball better when there weren't so many people," Jane grumbled.

"It gets better," Daria noted. "The brat is getting praised by these French visitors."

"What the hell for?" Jane asked.

"It appears that they appreciate that she had the forethought of having another Ball," Daria explained. "In other words, they get to simply mingle and chatter without having to concern themselves with something so meaningless like a revolution."

"Well, isn't that just peachy," Jane sighed. "How could this moment possibly be topped?"

"I dare say!" a new voice boomed. Everyone turned their attention to find none other than the Prince Regent himself standing proudly at the door. "What a roaringly splendid event this is!"

"Brother!" Augusta cried, rushing over to her brother as quickly as her feet would allow.

"George!" Charlotte cheered, herself making her way toward her eldest son. "What a wonderful surprise!"

"Hello, mother," the Prince Regent said as he hugged his mother and then his sister. "Little sister. You know me. The Prince Regent would never miss a Ball. And with the magnificent pair of trousers I am wearing now, I shall be the Belle of this Ball!"

The guests let out a great ovation as they welcomed the Prince Regent with open arms. A sight that would not have been possible any where else and with any other crowd. As this was all happening, a distinguished butler approached Daria and Jane with a permanent scowl on his face.

"Mr. Blackadder," Jane said.

"Ladies," Blackadder responded with a nod. "Ask me not about his knickers. It will surely give you nightmares."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Daria noted.

"Tallyho, Ambassador!" they heard the Prince Regent cry to one of the French guests. "You look as happy as a man who thought a cat had done its business on his pie, but it turned out to be an extra big blackberry."

"Ah, oui monsieur!" the Frenchman replied. He then began to rattle off in his native language while the Prince merely smiled, though clearly had no idea what was being said to him.

"Well, I don't know what you're talking about," the Prince finally responded. "But it sounds damn saucy, you lucky thing!"

"The French," Blackadder sneered. "We fought wars against them. Now we're partying with them. Did all those men die in vain on the field at Agincourt? Was the man who burned Joan of Arc simply wasting good matches?"

"Perhaps he dropped his cash and needed some light to find it," Daria noted

"Laugh all you want, Morgendorffer," Blackadder stated. "At the end of the day, we are surrounded by and ruled over by idiots. And even though those snail eating peasants are having a revolution, it will barely change a thing."

"What makes you say that?" Jane asked.

"Because no matter what, they're just going to screw up and set themselves back another three hundred years," Blackadder explained. "Society has no interest in bettering themselves any more than they are comfortable with. Unfortunately, these people will not be comfortable with advancement in the intellectual department any time soon. They're too busy having a good time."

"All we can do is trying to make a boat load of dough, right Blackadder?" Daria questioned.

"If you're going to be miserable, you might as well be miserably rich," Blackadder answered.

* * *

Many hours had passed since the Ball had ended. All the guests had long since left. Just pieces of trash laying about. The stranger entered, or rather strolled, in. If he seemed perplexed, he lacked the body language to show it.

"Hmmm..." he muttered. "I think there's supposed to be more people here..."

"You're late, numb-nuts," a voice called. The stranger looked over to see a familiar maid with her arms crossed and tapping her right toe. She looked far from pleased.

"Hey, Janey..." he managed to utter.

"Trent, what's the matter with you?" Jane asked in a demanding tone. "You and your cohorts were supposed to be here trashing the place hours ago. What gives?"

"Sorry, Janey..." Trent replied. "Traffic..."

"Don't tell me," Jane sighed, gently slapping a hand over her forehead. "You guys slept in."

"Oh yeah..." Trent said after a moment's thought. "That too..."

"And to think," Jane noted aloud. "I actually thought you lazy bums went to the French Embassy by mistake. Only there was actual death going on there, whereas you guys were to merely embarrass the spoiled Princess I serve."

"Death at the French Embassy..." Trent repeated. He thought about it for a moment and then commented. "Cool..."

"You just had to be my brother," Jane mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief.

* * *

For the  
BENEFIT of SEVERAL VIEWERS

LORD AKIYAMA'S  
Much admir'd Comedy

MORGENDORFFER

OR

NOB AND NOBILITY

was performed with appropriate Scenery Dresses etc.  
by

DARIA MORGENDORFFER,  
maid to the Princess,  
Miss. DARIA MORGENDORFFER.

Jane Lane, also maid to the Princess, Miss. JANE LANE.  
Princess Augusta, her highness, Miss. QUINN MORGENDORFFER.  
Queen Charlotte, her majesty, Mrs. HELEN MORGENDORFFER.

Lady Sandi, first high society brat, Miss. SANDI GRIFFIN.  
Lady Stacy, second high society brat, Miss. STACY ROWE.  
Lady Tiffany, third high society brat, Miss. TIFFANY BLUM-DECKLER.

Lady Brittany, dumb high society blonde, Miss. BRITTANY TAYLOR.  
Sir Kevin Thompson, dumb high society guy, Mr. KEVIN THOMPSON.  
Jodie Landon, maid to Lady Brittany, Miss. JODIE LANDON.  
Michael MacKenzie, butler to Sir Kevin, Mr. MICHAEL MacKENZIE.

Trent Lane, would-be revolutionary, Mr. TRENT LANE.

Mrs. Miggins, a coffee shoppekeeper, Miss. HELEN ATKINSON-WOOD.  
The Prince Regent, their master, Mr. HUGH LAURIE.  
Edmund Blackadder, butler to the Prince, Mr. ROWAN ATKINSON.

* * *

**Footnotes to History**

**[1]** - The Scarlet Pimpernel is a fictional hero created by Baroness Emmuska Orczy. He first appeared in a play produced and adapted by Fred Terry and Julia Neilson in 1903 before the original novel was published in 1905. The stories of the character's heroics as a masked avenger during the French Revolution served as a precursor to the "disguised super hero" who followed such as Batman, Zorro, and Captain America.

**[2]** - The French Revolution took place between 1789 and 1799. It brought about an astonishing transformation in French society as the Age of Enlightenment, bring about principles in citizenship and inalienable rights, overthrew the old and traditional practices of hierarchy founded upon feudal, aristocratic, and religious privileges.

**[3]** - A swan dress similar to the one worn by Björk at the 2001 Academy Awards.

* * *

To conclude with Rule Britannia in full chorus  
NO MONEY RETURN'D


End file.
